


A Lesson In Living.

by SolemnPrince



Category: Call of Duty (Video Games), Call of Duty Zombies
Genre: Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Kino Der Toten, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-03-26 21:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13866555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolemnPrince/pseuds/SolemnPrince
Summary: Edward keeps many secrets from his so-called 'team' but none that he cherishes as much as the hidden hideaway that he'd found amongst the Theatre's blueprints. It's his own personal safe-haven... until suddenly it isn't. If Richtofen has to hurt a few feelings, let slip a few secrets and trust a few times then so be it, as long as he gets his way in the end.





	1. Where Are We Going...

**Author's Note:**

> In this I'm going with the whole idea of no zombies at the opposite time that a map is set (an example being that Kino is set during the day so at night there are no zombies).
> 
> Also, this is my first fanfiction in years so I'd appreciate feedback very much!

He ignored the calls of ‘Doctor' and ‘Richtofen' as he stormed through the halls of the theatre. Sure, he was weaker with his shooting skills than the others but that didn't mean he couldn't blast his way through the horde of zombies in front of him, at least if it meant that he could reach a place where he could be alone.

His boots provided a satisfying plethora of sounds as he crunched, squelched and stomped his way through a bloody mass of corpses. He almost tripped on an exposed spinal column, stumbling and barely managing to right himself. It only fueled his anger. He quickened his marching and continued on the warpath he had laid out for himself.

Up, up and up again, past the room with the portraits he would usually admire. Through the room with glowing box and memories of a demon child he pressed on, only to pull himself to a halt at the top of the grand staircase. Aim, fire, repeat. Dead, dead and deader. The sounds of anguish and the tearing of rotten flesh did nothing to quell his fury.

It was almost time so he pressed on, over the blockade towards the safe room, the one place that was his and his alone.

When his clip ran dry and he was forced to pull his other gun from his back, the zombies started to thin out. He wanted to smile but couldn't.

Instead, he fired into a runner, slammed his right boot down onto the head of a Nova crawler and tackled the remaining zombie.

Edward sat himself on top of its shoulders, the creature’s arms pinned to the floor as he started to pummel away. He couldn't tell if the cracking sounds were his bones or the zombie’s but that didn't stop him as he slammed his fists down repeatedly into the face beneath him.

After caving in the skull of his unfortunate victim, pulling wet bone fragments and bits of eyeball from his leather gloves, he stood.

There were no more sounds in the theatre around him, just the way he liked it. That didn't mean it was silent - far from it as the voices slipped cute suggestions of murder along the conference table of his mind. So much yelling, so much bickering. Edward was so very tired.

It was that time again when he could act on his exhaustion. He moved, still with the anger that pushed him before but muted by the promise of the comfortable quilt and feather pillow that awaited him.

He had walked further away from the main entrance, from the ‘safe' area that they usually kept themselves in. The definition of safe in a place like this was relative though. It meant, more than anything, a section of the building that had all their stuff in, wasn't filled with rot and debris and allowed them to make one big run loop without having to climb barriers.

Richtofen came to a long hallway, paintings spotted around as if to distract from the lack of doors. He knew that if he went further up the hall and round the corners that formed an ‘m' on the building’s blueprints, it would look as if all the space on the opposite side of the paintings really were proper rooms. It would seem an odd design choice but enough people reckoned that ‘odd' was the basis of theatre itself.

Teeth pulled the leather from his fingers, the move practiced and purposely sultry. He pocketed his gloves and let a bare hand trail across the walls, dancing lightly over more paintings and bare wall until he reached the subtle cracks he had been searching for. He pushed and the wood swung slowly back. It creaked with long term disuse but didn’t require any real force as it revealed the room inside.

It was his sanctuary, his shrine, a resting place and hiding hole, all in one combined. A secret room, unknown to the others.

The perfect place to slip away to as the sun faded down.

He entered slowly, as if the ground could fall out from under him at any time (which, as far as he knew, could actually happen). His footsteps were light until he reached the edge of his Queen size mattress - barely a few steps in and tightly squeezed in between walls. It barely fit, there being less than a finger’s width of space between it and the wall to its left.

Unlacing his boot, he caressed his feet as they came free of their prisons. His socks were damp, covered in blood that had managed to dribble down into the boots. Voices far from his own poured in like slime, suggesting and ordering him to scrub his body until it _really_ had a reason to be bloody.

He ignored them, he had other things to do and it was not the time for destructive behaviours (he’d save that for later, outside his paradise, where three more voices could join the chorus in his mind). Instead, he crawled up towards the head of the mattress, towards his collection of particularly fluffy pillows and the dresser that the mattress was pressed against.

He peeled off layer after layer of clothing,tempted to just flop down on to his fabric-encased clouds and drift into his own temporary heaven…

… But that meant dirtying them and then he’d have to do _more_ cleaning and he absolutely did not want to move more than he had to afterwards.

As he stripped down to his ever so charming lightning bolt boxers and greying undershirt, he reached up and onto the dresser. On it sat a small collection of scented candles, most of them nestled into intricate looking glass holders - another perk of this lavish environment. He grabbed a lighter, tucked away behind a stubby blue candle that was worn down with use, and proceeded to light a couple at random.

He shuffled back to the open entryway and pushed it shut, encasing him in near darkness. Something nagged at the back of his mind about the safety of lighting candles in such a small, enclosed area… but it was easily ignored as he fell back onto the bed.

He pulled his blankets up to his chest and finally started to enjoy the paradise he had spent many long hours working towards.

Or at least, he could have if he hadn’t noticed the sound of cautious footsteps getting closer. As he reached for the M1911 tucked under his discarded clothing, he listened to the slightly muffled sounds. Voices!

The others had never bothered to follow him before and he would’ve questioned how they found him had he not been staring straight at his boots, still splashed with drying blood. He hadn’t been careful enough!

He could barely hear their words over his internal distress. To anyone else this wouldn’t have been such a world-breaking event but it was the only thing he had that was truly his. Edward had pulled the clutter from the room himself, furnished it after spending hours braving unstable surfaces and still-falling debris… only to have it snatched from him, like everything else he’d worked so hard for.

It was safe, it was quiet, the smells didn’t set off his nerves and leave him sensitive and shaken… A sensory haven, where the shadows of voices pulled back to just listen instead of shout.

Destroyed by his foolishness.

Of course they’d come after him eventually. They didn’t trust him and to be very fair to them, they had no reason to. He had lied to them at almost every turn and if he had his way, they’d be bowing at his feet all too soon.

He steeled his nerves as he leaned back amongst the pillows and waited. He’d already made his decision not to let them take this from him and he intended to follow through.

“So why would the good ol’ doc come all the way out here? I mean, you think he’d want to spend all his time looking for more teleporter thingies… or wearing those pretty frocks behind the stage!” Even muffled by a wall, Tank radiated smugness.

 _Ah, Dempsey, stupid as always_. He obviously hadn’t felt how soft those dresses were or he wouldn’t have made such a foolish remark. Edward had already tried to find ones in his size but most of them were too tight around the waist, a true shame.

“Maybe there’s something better out here… maybe more alcohol, eh?”

“Drunkard.”

“I’m not drunk!” There was the sound of Nikolai’s fist hitting a wall. “Not even tipsy! That is whole problem, yes? There is not enough alcohol here, let’s go back to nicely furnished bar backstage…”

“Nik, focus, we have to find Richtofen. The sneaky bastard left in such a mood, I really wanna know where he keeps on running off to!”

“The footsteps stop here. Maybe it has something to do with these portraits…” Takeo. His fondness for the man decreased ever further.

“Good idea, Tak. Nikolai, get your ass up and help search!”

He heard their incessant tapping of the walls and floor as they searched. Then the final knocks sounded against the entrance as the wall moved in. It was cautious at first, as if they believed they were about to walk into a trap. After a moment of peace, the wood was shoved further back and his eyes met those of his subjects.

He ignored the fact that they were test subjects as it was rather apt for him to think of them in that way, sprawled out like a king as he was. His eyes met theirs and although he didn’t look forward to the aftermath, he admitted to himself that it was pleasurable to see the shock on their faces.

Dempsey’s mouth hung open like a fish and Nikolai’s eyes looked as if they’d bug out of his head any second. Takeo still had his hand on his katana but his grip was far too tight, as if letting go would somehow cause the universe to collapse.

He fluffed the pillows a little bit behind him, certainly not out of nervousness and asked, “Yes gentlemen? How may I help you?”

No response.

“Hello, is anyone there?” Again, no response.

He’d obviously made such a lovely picture that he’d broken them.

Edward dropped the pistol that he hadn’t noticed he was still holding and picked up the lighter that he’d let go of earlier. He flicked it on, hissing as he ran his fingers over the flame before it was placed once more on top of the dresser and he cuddled back into his bed’s delightful softness.

“What… in the freaking hell…”

“As horrible as it is to know that you can still speak, I’d still like to stay warm so shut the entrance. It’s letting in a draft.”

They didn’t move. Edward wasn’t kidding about the draft and he certainly felt it as the heat drifted out. If they were going to intrude on his privacy, the least they could have done was close the ‘door.’

Irritated at their lack of movement, he stood up and marched along the mattress. He moved forwards and the rest of the group took a seemingly unconscious step back. With a sound akin to a growl he grabbed Takeo and Nikolai by the sleeves and yanked them further into the room.

“Take off your boots if you intend to join me, I don’t want to have to clean any of this tonight.”

That was enough to snap the two of them into action it seemed.

With a delightful swiftness Takeo complied, almost in a daze, with his orders. He left the Russian to try and remember how straps worked and turned to the American. He was not expecting the blond to be staring at him, but following his gaze he found it all too entertaining.

“Why Dempsey,” he paused to place a hand on the other man’s chest, “if you wanted to get into my pants you should have said so before I invited the others in!”

That seemed to snap him out of it as he pushed Edward back onto the bed where he landed with an ‘oof’ next to Nikolai. From there he proceeded to stretch and kick the wall so that it swung shut.

“As if, Doc. Now, wanna explain what exactly is going on in here?”

“Have you not seen a bedroom before Dempsey? I know you’re a beast but here I thought you would know of something so wonderfully simple about human households.”

“You fuckin’...” Tank moved forward, hands outstretched to throttle the Doctor until-

“ _Halt mal!_ ” Edward glared at Tank’s feet, focused more on the boots about to ruin his blankets than the hands about to ruin his throat. “Take those boots off before you even _think_ of taking one step further!”

His yelling seemed to echo off of the walls and he watched with hawk-like intensity as Tank used his feet to kick off his boots with absolutely no regard as to how it would scuff the material. _Heathen_.

He turned and found the others staring at him. He raised an eyebrow at them and did an accompanying finger wave before he crawled up to join Takeo where he’d shuffled over to lean on the dresser.

All in all, it hadn’t turned out too awful… yet.

The doctor folded the blanket back over himself, having to tug a corner particularly hard to get it out from underneath Nikolai. Then, with only a moment’s hesitation, he draped some of it over the Japanese man beside him. Takeo looked wary but nodded his thanks nevertheless. Okay, so maybe Edward was more fond of him than he thought.

“Sit down Dempsey, your hovering is getting on my last nerve.”

He complied, but never without a snide comment as he gave a rattling laugh, “Hah, always knew you were dead inside, Richtofen.”

“Oh ha-ha. Very funny Dempsey, I applaud your excellent wit.” He yawned and knew he wouldn’t be able to stay conscious much longer, especially with the warmth of the blankets and the 2 consecutive nights of sleep he had forgone. _Oh, to be young again_.

“So this is what you’ve been sneaking away for? A relaxing snooze, while we get stuck with theatre chairs and piles of costumes on the stage?”

“Would’ve been nice for you to share,” Nikolai rubbed harshly at his spine in a way that probably did more harm than good, “My back is killing all over.”

This. This was exactly why he hadn’t shared. Too much noise, too much talking, too much movement. All he wanted to do was rest, relax on his own and not wake up to the sensory damnation that came with being around two loud, unhygienic men. It probably would have been alright to share the secret with Takeo but two people vanishing would have meant discovery much sooner.

He raised a hand to his eyes and blocked out the low glow of the candles. Darkness hit him and he found it that much easier to sink his shoulders back and think about his words.

“In all the time that you have been here, have you not thought why I would not share such a secret with you?” No reply, except from a short squeak of the mattress as someone, _Nikolai_ , shifted.

He sighed, popped his shoulders and bit at the skin inside his mouth. _How to explain it?_

“Aside from our lovely Takeo, you never manage to shut your mouth for long. Your yelling, belching, coughing and ceaseless insulting of my person makes my head ache in such a way that I would rather splatter my brains along the wall.”

He moved his hand and saw that Dempsey was ready to argue, “You-”

“And that’s another matter altogether! Do you really think with the way you look at me, the manner in which you get in my face and spit nothing but insults at me, do you really think that I would feel inclined to share anything but pain and blood with you?”

He had him. The American’s mouth snapped shut, not ready to push the point when he knew it was the truth. Edward had him, had all of them, looking at him and listening however unwilling they were.

“But say that I did. Say that I had shared this with you. Would you have helped to clean it? Would you have helped to take the burden of lugging around furniture for hours off of my back? When everything gets too loud and I’d ask for you to leave, would you have done so? I highly doubt it.

"So no, I did not share and will not do so past this night. Enjoy it while you can.”

With that he lay down on his back, eyes open and waiting as he resolutely counted each notch on the ceiling and wondered how it got there. It was trivial and something he needed badly in that moment.

Dempsey was, unsurprisingly, the first to speak. “In that case, I’m leaving. Now that I know where you’ve been crawling off to I don’t need to be here. Anyone else coming with me? I doubt it’s actually safe here anyway.”

Richtofen was ready to state that it was plenty safe but he held his tongue. It seemed like everyone else did too. He heard Dempsey scoff and pull his boots on before heaving the entrance open and storming off.

Still he didn’t look.

“I better uh… go and check if he’s okay?”

He nodded and Nikolai must have seen it in the low light as he walked off, boots in hand, the sound of his sock covered feet pattering away down the hall.

Minutes passed and both of the remaining men were silent. He took that as a sign that Takeo would be joining him that night. Why that was, he didn’t know, and yet he found himself strangely grateful for it.

He ran his tongue over his lips, noticing how cracked they were… _Maybe I will search for some lippenpomade in the dressing rooms tomorrow_ , he thought. After all he was going to run past there enough, the least he could do was to not let his presentation fall apart. With that sorted, he looked over to find the other side of the bed empty.

Without his notice, Takeo had stood up and had begun to close the entrance. He was thankful to the shorter man but still kept an eye on him, paranoia settling deep within his core to register every move as an attack. He didn’t want it to be that way but nevertheless it happened.

Takeo rejoined Edward in the lavish bed. He removed his cap, pouches and jacket, sliding them down the side of the bed before he snatched up Richtofen’s forgotten pistol and nestled it under his own pillow.

Richtofen let him have the gun. After all, he wasn’t planning on killing him that night and Takeo would probably be a better shot than his own sleep-riddled self if they were actually attacked. Beyond that, he had another pistol shoved down his side of the bed if he needed it.

“Doctor, would you like the candles out?”

“That would be lovely, thank you, Takeo.” _It really wouldn’t be, Takeo, damn you!_

As the candle light died, the room faced true darkness once more. He didn’t trust this. As much respect as the other showed him, loyalty did not factor into it in his mind. Takeo was loyal yes but he was sure that the subject remembered far more of the 115 experiments than he let on.

That was a dangerous thought and had to force down his bubbling anxiety by chalking it solely up to paranoia - he’d never get any sleep otherwise - and the fact that they needed him alive.

With that last thought, he drifted off into a fitful sleep.


	2. Awkward Awakenings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richtofen finds himself in a slightly uncomfortable situation caused by a sleeping Takeo.
> 
> Dempsey brings up a good point but is easily distracted by his anger towards the German.
> 
> Nikolai just needs to drink more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter was slightly more plot filled, this is just a lot of stuff that I am using to build up both relationships and the plot for the next chapter.

**Chapter Two**

 

Edward tried his best to get at least a little bit of sleep. He swore that he must have been asleep for a good hour or two even! Still, he couldn’t manage to keep himself in the land of dreamless screaming as he usually did. He highly suspected that was due to the Asian man soundly asleep on the opposite side of the mattress.

 

Takeo was on his back, mouth slightly parted and eyelids twitching in reaction to whatever scene was playing in his dreams. Thankfully his snoring was the quietest of his companions’ and he could get his thoughts out peacefully to examine them… He doubted he could have done so much as hear himself _speak_ if Nikolai was unconscious on the same side of the building as he was.

 

Despite his inability to sleep because of Takeo’s choice to stay, he felt rather comforted by the fact that there would be someone there if something potentially dangerous and unexpected were to happen. He told himself that it was purely because he could throw the Samurai in front of him as protection... yet he knew that was a lie.

 

He couldn’t tell how long he’d been laying there for, the room thankfully covered by a ceiling not riddled with holes.

 

He debated getting up but who knew how light of a sleeper his ally was? He surely didn’t and he wasn’t eager to find out either but… it was between that and laying there until he could feel the skin deep crawl of the little girl preparing to attack once again.

 

After many minutes more of boredom, he finally decided that he would leave the room. Without waking Takeo. Somehow.

 

He shifted himself up onto his elbows, lit a candle and finally had a clear look at Takeo - he maintained his good looks and harsh expressions, even in his sleep, as if wound up into a permanent state of alert… Richtofen was sure that his experimentations with 115 were only partially to blame for that. Generally his experience with his current subject was that if Edward tried to wake him in any way before he was ready, he’d find himself on his back with hands tight around his throat. How did the others deal with that?

 

He looked around for his clothes, trying to remember where he’d discarded them, when he managed to spot his shirt. He must have left it on bed when he was folding up the rest of his outfit because there it was, half-buried underneath a soundly asleep Takeo.

 

Shit.

 

He weighed up the pros and cons of going without a shirt for the day versus being choked out on a soft bed. Edward wouldn’t mind the second option much if he knew that he’d still be alive afterwards. Besides, everyone had to make sacrifices now and then but his would _not_ be at the expense of his dignity. Or his shirt.

 

He tried everything he could think of to get his button-up back but nothing seemed to work. Takeo, for all of his less-than-powerful appearance, was muscle and solid weight that refused to be nudged aside.

 

Eventually he gave up, donned the rest of his uniform and - lamenting the fate of his shirt - prepared to leave.

 

That plan was ruined when he stepped and slipped on Takeo’s discarded clothing and fell backwards onto the bed.

 

Directly onto Takeo’s lap.

 

Edward had only enough time to hear the end of the quiet snoring before hands wrapped around him, one circling his waist and another pressing tightly into his throat.

 

His attacker flipped them over and Edward was firmly planted on his front, face pressing deep into the mattress whilst a weight settled onto his spine. Reflexively he attempted to toss and turn so that he could throw Takeo off but aside from managing make the man shift to accommodate his movement, nothing happened.

 

They stayed like that for a few moments, Edward trying to breathe, Takeo trying to shake off the sleep-fueled haze.

 

“...Doctor?”

 

He decided that faking cheerfulness couldn’t hurt any more than the hand still around his throat.

 

“G-good morning,” One deep shuddering breath later, “it- it isn’t quite time to get up yet, feel free to go back to sleep!”

 

That seemed to allow Takeo to realise that his hands were still wrapped far too tightly around Edward’s throat. Takeo gently removed his hand, rubbing his calloused (yet still strangely soft) fingers against the older man’s throat.

 

Richtofen didn’t stop to think why that gentle gesture felt almost like an apology.

 

“Now you’re up though,” Edward tentatively started, “I’d like to retrieve my shirt if you don’t mind.”

 

He couldn’t see if the man nodded, still pinned down by Takeo as he was, though he assumed that he must have done something of the sort as the other arm removed itself from his waist. The warm weight eased off his back as the former test subject leaned over to pluck up his shirt…

 

...Which only served to bring Edward’s attention to a very solid, very heated weight pressing into him further down.

 

Usually he wouldn’t hesitate to spit out a flirtatious remark that could end up putting him in the flight path of a fist to the face but the prominent erection pressed against his thigh rendered him silent.

 

It wasn’t a surprise to him that someone could wake up in such a situation but he was slightly shocked that Takeo was still able to maintain one after the 115 experiments… Other - less important - test subjects early on tended to suffer from erectile dysfunction or a lack of sexual drive altogether, so it was a new bit of information..

 

Still, he couldn’t help but to giggle - actually giggle - when Takeo moved to lean back over to pass him the shirt and gasped, pressing his not-so-little problem further against Edward. Obviously he hadn’t noticed the predicament he was facing.

 

Takeo leapt to his feet, stumbling backwards and lightly tripping in his haste to move away from Richtofen. His back slammed into the wall, the tightness of the room they were in becoming painfully obvious in that moment.

 

The silence was only half awkward as they stared at each other, refusing to let their eyes meet but still not looking away.

 

Richtofen finally picked up his shirt. He wasn’t bothered by what had just occurred, even if he wasn’t too pleased about the marks he could feel forming on his throat. He was sure that the test subject was somewhat alarmed but it wasn't his job to calm him. Instead, he proceeded to strip off his jacket, slipped his shirt on and removed the tie from his trouser pocket. A sense of normality, or what could pass for it in a zombie infested hellhole, was welcome.

 

“Thank you for the shirt.” He stood, walking past Takeo who was still pasted flat against the wall. “When you leave, make sure to close the entryway. I will be unhappy to find that a zombie has ruined my sheets.”

 

“...Yes, Doctor.”

 

“Gut. I trust that you remember the way back?”

 

He didn’t have much faith in his other allies but he was sure that Takeo wouldn’t go anywhere without a planned exit.

 

“I do. Will you go back to the main theatre alone?”

 

“Yes. Worry not, my brave friend, it’s still night and I believe we have a good while before Samantha starts her childish games again.”

 

He nodded at Edward but it felt like he didn’t quite believe him.

 

Ah well. He was more than used to that, especially from his three travel companions.

 

They left Takeo’s little problem untalked about but still… He couldn’t resist giving Takeo a lecherous gaze.

 

The light flush and narrowed eyes he received in return were too good for him to stop there. He pulled the ‘door' open, preparing his escape as he whispered, “If you need any help with _that_ , you know where to find me!”

 

The warrior stepped towards him, hands balled up, and Edward took that as his cue to start walking. Fast.

 

He definitely didn’t run down the hallway but he couldn’t deny that he moved hastily and with a exceedingly large grin.

 

What a perfect start to the day.

 

On the other side of the theatre, Nikolai was awake watching as Tank paced in circles on the stage. He’d been wound up since storming away from the Doctor’s room and there was no stopping him, even as he drank down one of the beers that Nikolai had managed to find for him in the lounge.

 

Even just watching all this drama made him tired, not too fond of the ridiculous way his friend had responded to their earlier discovery. Still, he’d keep talking to Dempsey until one of them passed out. At this rate it was looking to be the one making grooves in the floor.

 

“If it helps, Dempsey, we could make our own room?”

 

The look he received was partially interested but mostly that frowning, lips down, eyes wide expression that the other would make when he could barely contain his anger. Funnily enough it was also his thinking face.

 

“That isn’t what this is about, Nik.”

 

“Then what? If it wasn’t about the bed then-”

 

“It’s about that sneaky little bastard that you left Takeo alone with!” Nikolai was about to interrupt, not pleased about all the blame being shoved onto him, when Tank continued, “Think about it, he knows enough about this place to have some secret little hideaway! What else isn’t he telling us, huh?”

 

It was a good point. They couldn’t actually tell how much Richtofen knew about this place and from what they’d found out today it was a great deal more than either of them knew.

 

“So what, maybe he just found it?” He doubted his own words but it _was_ possible.

 

“Nik, that is the most stupid thing I’ve heard you say.”

 

“Shut up, it could be true.”

 

“If it were anyone else, maybe.” Dempsey had finally stopped, hands on his hips and glaring down at him.

 

“What can we actually do about it then?”

 

It wasn’t as if they could just go up to the German and expect a truthful answer. Hell, he wasn’t even sure that half the things they had learned about the man during their time together were actually true and not just some act, let alone any information that Richtofen would give them about a zombie-infested Nazi base.

 

“I… don’t know. Just keep an eye on him, okay? When Tak shows up I’ll talk to him and ask him to do the same.”

 

Nikolai just scoffed in response, feeling fine with not having to talk to their other ally. Takeo had a cute ass but his personality left a lot to be desired, especially when he couldn’t keep his mouth shut about Nikolai’s drinking habits.

 

Habits that didn’t prevent him from noticing a shadow creeping along somewhere behind Dempsey.

 

“Behind you!” Nikolai yelled, pulling out his Colt and trying to fire, cursing when he realised that he didn’t have it reloaded. Looking up, he was relieved to notice that Dempsey had his own weapon up and ready to shoot.

 

“Oh put the gun down, Dempsey, it’s just me.”

 

“That doesn’t make me want to shoot you any less, Doc.” He said as Richtofen walked calmly out from the stage’s shadows close to the dressing room, clutching something in his hand.

 

Nikolai felt his heartbeat stuttering back to his usual beat, glad that it no longer felt as if it was pressing against his ribs. Fortunately he realised that he still held onto his alcohol and hadn’t spilled much of it. A few drinks would be good for him if he had to deal with this.

 

“Didn’t realise that you wanted to leave your room tonight, thought you’d be too busy making Tak uncomfortable and plotting away in your little nest.”

 

Neither soldier missed the upturn in Richtofen’s lips when their Japanese friend was mentioned.

 

“No need to worry about me, Dempsey dearest.” He smirked, applying what looked like lipstick but...  clear? “I’ve decided that tonight would be perfect for a friendly stroll.”

 

“Yeah? Why don’t I trust that a ‘stroll’ is the only thing you’re up to?”

 

“I don’t know, my sweet, stupid American… Why don’t you trust me?” He’d moved on from smirking and was flat-out grinning as Tank moved forward to grab at his jacket, yanking him closer.

 

“You know why none of us trust you, you fucking asshole!”

 

“I have absolutely no clue. Feel free to tell me, Dempsey.”

 

Tank started to flush an angry red, baring his teeth and breathing heavily into Richtofen’s face. “You little-”

 

“Doctor!” The shout came from the seating areas above.

 

All three of the men below looked up in surprise, seeing Takeo leaning over the banisters. He had a rifle and Richtofen’s hat in his hands.

 

Tank thought it wasn’t too much to hope that he’d shoot the German.

 

He was left disappointed when Takeo gestured to the stairs. He felt the man in his grasp batting at his hands and he reluctantly let go… although not before giving him a push that sent him sprawling on his back on the dirty stage floor.

 

“Ooh, Dempsey,” came an almost-moan, “If you want to play rough you should have just told me! All this wasted time for nothing.”

 

He wanted nothing more than to kick the smile off the Nazi’s face. He got as far as a single step before a hand rested on his shoulder.

 

“Drink with me?” Nikolai stood behind him, his face a warning not to do anything the perverted Doctor might enjoy.

 

“Fine,” he agreed, “but none of that nasty shit you gave me earlier. Got any Whiskey? Or Jug?”

 

Richtofen stood up and brushed himself off, walking up towards the lobby. Nikolai was glad that they weren’t going to be fighting and decided that he’d keep Tank busy, even if it was at the expense of a drink.

 

“...Maybe. I’m not buying one for you if I don’t.”

 

“Aw, Nik, not even for a friend?”

 

“No. You have points, buy drinks yourself.” He said, exasperatedly.

 

Tank chuckled, knocking against the larger man’s shoulders as they started to head out into the alleyway together, not a zombie in sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try not to wait so long before updating but the lack of response I've had to this fanfiction, combined with the four other stories I'm currently writing (including two other CoDZ fics I've yet to post) has me a little... off? I guess. I'll do my best to get the next chapter out soon.


	3. Do you remember?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takeo knows that Edward is hiding information from them and starts his investigation in the Doctor's room. 
> 
> What he finds is more than a bit concerning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I promised a quicker update and although it is better than a month, I still need to improve. Don't worry though, I'm working on it! :)
> 
> This chapter is a little shorter than the others but is filled with a bit more plot.

Having the Doctor fall onto his lap wasn’t Takeo’s idea of the perfect way to wake up, especially considering that it activated a panic within himself that he hadn’t felt since the start of the 115 experiments.

 

For a while, he barely remembered where he was, why he was shut in a room with seemingly no exit. All he could feel was the racing of the pulse that his arm was pressed against and the soft material tangling around his legs. There was no ‘Richtofen’, no ‘115’, just the fear of the unknown and his inability to comprehend the situation around him. 

 

He never wanted to feel that way again.

 

Vibrations went through Takeo as he spoke but he couldn’t hear the words clear enough or make sense of what he might have said, his eyes locked onto the back of the Doctor’s head and vision lightly swimming. The body underneath his own went lax, allowing Takeo to sink down on top of it to the point where he could feel every bone and sharp edge buried under the few layers of clothing.

 

The form underneath him shook lightly and he felt an almost comforted by having another living being so close that wasn’t hurting him in some way. It was calming… Surprisingly enough, it was helping him.

 

Which of course, made it the perfect time for him to realise that he still had his arm around the other man’s neck and that maybe letting go would be a good idea. Maybe. This was Richtofen, after all. He respected the Doctor but it didn’t mean he had to have any good feelings towards him.

 

He did feel bad about almost choking him out though. Slightly. It was okay for it to be a little bit fun after all the Doctor had done to him, right?

 

“Now you’re up though, I’d like to retrieve my shirt if you don’t mind.”

 

He hadn’t even noticed that Richtofen had been missing it… or that he’d apparently been laying on it the entire time. His face flushed and he leaned over to sweep up the still-warm shirt, still not releasing his captive.

 

That was, until he leaned back. A spike of pleasure ran through him and he gasped, shaking and trembling slightly, looking down in an odd rapidly cycling mix of shock, fear and despair. He pushed himself up, off the mattress until his back slammed into the wall, not anywhere near far enough away from this situation for his liking.

 

_ ‘How dishonourable, to touch your companion in such a way, especially without consent. You should honestly be ashamed of yourself, Masaki. Though what did I really expect from someone with your… abnormal proclivities?’ _

 

The voice echoed in his skull, memories of so long ago in the training rooms of the palace haunting him anew. His Master liked to keep a narrowed eye on him. Much like the one he felt himself giving the Doctor as they composed themselves.

 

Richtofen freed himself of the top half of his uniform and shrugged his shirt on with practiced ease, barely looking phased over the whole issue. So they wouldn’t talk about it? It didn’t feel right even though he was slightly relieved.

 

“Thank you for the shirt. When you leave, make sure to close the entryway. I will be unhappy to find that a zombie has ruined my sheets.”

 

“...Yes, Doctor.”

 

“Gut. I trust that you remember the way back?”

 

Was that some sort of test? Did Richtofen not trust him to remember the steps he took only a few hours ago?

 

“I do. Will you go back to the main theatre alone?”, he said, wondering if the other didn’t want him around.

 

“Yes. Worry not, my brave friend, it’s still dark and I believe we have a good while before Samantha starts her childish games again.” 

 

That did not abate his worries. If the Doctor was separated and cornered... 

 

Takeo knew that the man could handle himself perfectly well, but the girl was determined and unpredictable at her best and her volatile attitude towards the only other competent member of their group always filled him with unease.

 

Richtofen opened the wall’s exit passage, stopping just before the last step that would land him in the hallway. The look in his eyes fell somewhere between demented perversion and lustful yearning as he looked back at Takeo, though that couldn’t possibly be the case. He braced himself anyway, clenching his fists.

 

“If you need any help with  _ that,” _ he whispered with an obvious leer at Takeo’s stimulated package, _ “ _ you know where to find me!”

 

Takeo refused to believe that the other man would say such a thing and proceed to run. Still, he had to stop himself mid-stride from chasing after his ally. He’d make him talk later, when Takeo didn’t have investigating to do.

 

Despite being of similar intelligence, there were things that Takeo was not privy to and habits that the Doctor had yet to break. If the Warrior was right, documenting anything and everything would be one such habit and may even provide him with the answers he needs.

 

He also knows that the other man knows what Takeo is after and has hidden it accordingly. He was even given the all-clear to begin his search by being left alone in a previously private environment, probably meaning that everything was hidden sometime before, possibly out of the man’s overwhelming paranoid behaviour that always kept them guessing. Better to wonder about that rather than what else he had been given the ‘all-clear’ for by his mysterious companion.

 

Takeo searched every part of the room, lifting pillow cases, peeling away the mattress’ protective sheet, emptying the drawers and checking for false panels or hidden writing. He found nothing. Having essentially turned the room upside down, he didn’t find even a page or a scrap.

 

He sighed and started to neaten the room once more. Just because the other knew that he would be looking didn’t mean that he had to make it obvious or be so rude as to leave his bed such a mess after the (mostly) comfortable sleep he had received.

 

He was placing the blankets back on the bed, straightening them out at the head of the bed, when his vision started to blur again. Caught off-guard he stumbled back, smacking into the dresser that served as the floor-bed’s makeshift headboard. 

 

A few candles fell to the floor, thankfully none of them being lit. The single main candle that was lit stayed in place on the dresser, embedded with a small metal pole through the holder and into the wood of the furniture. He was eternally grateful to the spirits that he would not have to explain to the others how he’d managed to burn down the theatre after a small dizzy spell, at least not on this day.

 

Picking up the candles, he noticed something a little strange. A few of them had small circular holes drilled into the underside as if something was to be placed there. There was no reason for such things when the candle holders were what kept the important candles in place.

 

_ Unless… _

 

He placed the candle in his hand onto the dresser, not finding anything as he picked up and inspected each of the candles for abnormalities. He’d almost given up hope until in his hand rested a small tube of red wax - and it really did feel like a tube with the way it was hollowed out. The smallest of the lights, inconspicuous enough to have otherwise passed his notice had he not been looking so closely.

 

Inside the red candle were some folded up bits of loose paper with holes down one side wrapped around a thin black stick. He didn’t know or care for the purpose of the paper’s holes but they looked purposeful enough that it meant the Doctor had recovered the paper from somewhere. If he found any in the future, he could always choose to pass it along as a peaceful gesture. Or not.

 

Either way, he found what he was looking for. He placed down the carved piece of charcoal that must have served Richtofen in writing his notes, careful not to snap it as he shifted onto his knees. He began to read quietly. 

 

**“It’s come to my recent attention that I have been suffering from slight memory gaps, of the same category as those who have in some way been administered the element 115 ‘treatment’. This is… not unexpected.”**

 

_ You’re becoming more like us every day Doctor. This is just the start, I would not hesitate to think _ \- He continued to read.

 

**“So from now on, I will watch myself more thoroughly. Though it isn’t just myself that needs to be watched. Dempsey is experiencing more frequent periods of forgetfulness and whilst that usually wouldn’t be a concern of mine, the incident from a few days ago is slowly creeping up on me. After all, if he couldn’t even remember who Takeo was at the time then what else might he forget?”**

 

_ What. What? The memory gaps can be as recent at long-lasting as that? _

 

Takeo knew nothing good could come of reading Richtofen’s notes but to learn of an incident - that seemed to have only recently occurred depending on when the note was written exactly - where one of their group had such a large memory gap? It couldn’t be true. If it was, they were in a lot more trouble than the others even knew of. 

 

There was only a page left and Takeo didn’t want to read it, he just wanted to crawl under the blankets and be warm until the morning. This was one time that he wished he could just forget everything. He didn’t want to be in this theatre, in a land that isn’t his own, surrounded by those that could turn on him at any moment. Especially if Richtofen had found a way to control these memory lapses or was working on it.

 

He pressed forward.

 

**“This incident has proved to be an isolated event so far. Dempsey hasn’t had any problems of this magnitude since then, unless you count forgetting where he hid one of Nikolai’s unopened perks, almost causing a theaterwide game of ‘chase the American’ with Takeo trying to moderate and calm the two. It was amusing to watch from the balconies - I believe I have found a new favourite break area.**

 

**Mentioning Takeo reminds me, I need to continue the talk that I attempted to have with Dempsey previously. Takeo needs to be watched and as I have neither the time or the means to do so, meaning Dempsey is the obvious candidate for this task despite that small hiccup. Entrusting Nikolai with such a delicate matter would be like cutting a main artery, ending only in bloodshed and with one less companion. While that wouldn’t normally be a problem, I need them all alive. Therefore it is out of the question.**

 

**I shall have to hope that our Warrior can manage until I confront the American again.”**

 

Richtofen was wrong. For Takeo’s sake, he had to be wrong. Sure, his brain wasn’t the polished gem that it was before he was captured - and he knew who was at fault for that, he stared the leading man in the face every day now - but it couldn’t be so far gone that it would drive Dr. Edward Richtofen, The Butcher, to seem to feel something akin to concern…

 

He had to talk to Dempsey.

 

The Russian could listen if he was around but Richtofen was not to know that he had found anything. By the way he had hidden it, he was expecting it to be safe enough that Takeo wouldn’t have found it on a normal search. He was thankful for whatever it was that caused his instability at that time, otherwise Richtofen may have moved or destroyed such information.

 

Tucking everything away, back into the candle just like he found it, Takeo stood with none of his usual grace. Everything was off, feeling just too much like wading through deep water.

 

There was so much he had to do. Their plans had to be put on pause. Richtofen’s too.

 

Spotting a certain Doctor’s hat, he knew just how he’d go about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd appreciate feedback on this chapter and how my writing is so far! Don't be afraid to say what you do and don't like about it!
> 
> Also any errors in the chapters I post are fixed when I come back to upload the next one. There will probably be a few things to fix because of my tendency to post in the small hours of the morning...

**Author's Note:**

> As you can tell, I have no sense of pacing and my dialogue is... very wooden. My apologies, everyone!
> 
> I hope that at the very least it seems in-character.


End file.
